


Here Today

by Everadaptingwriter



Category: The Beatles
Genre: Depressing, John's death, John's ghost, Lots of memories, Lots of tears, Paul's reaction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-05
Updated: 2012-12-05
Packaged: 2017-11-20 10:26:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/584385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Everadaptingwriter/pseuds/Everadaptingwriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just after Paul learns about John's death he retreats to his studio to be alone with his memories.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Here Today

"Paul?" Linda placed a gentle hand on her husband's shoulder. "I'm... Going to the studio." "Okay, do you want us to come with you?" She asked as he stood and grabbed his coat. "No, I need to be alone right now." She nodded, and watched him walk out the door. Within seconds he was back inside, holding Linda close. "I love you."  
"I love you too." After the hug, he left again. Paul was in the car, watching as the trees went by. Flashes of memories kept trying to pry their way into his mind. He didn't want them and definitely didn't need them, but he just couldn't stop them.

_"Did you see that? There was so many of them!" John couldn't stop moving in the car. "I know! There must have been thousands of them!" "I couldn't even hear my drums!" Ringo laughed. "Why did you play with your elbows?" "Cause I wanted to. But they just went mad!" "I saw one faint!" "Did you see the one who broke through? That was brilliant!"_

Paul tried once again to push the tears. He just couldn't be dead. His best friend, a brother, old band mate, the one who could bring out the best and worst of Paul, could not be dead. The great John Lennon could not be dead.

 _"This is Paul. Paul McCartney."_  
 _"Hi." Paul nodded cheerfully. John eyed him carefully, seeing the guitar in his hand._  
 _"Paul plays guitar too. He's really good."_  
 _"Yeah? Show us then_."  
  
"Mr. McCartney," The driver pulled Paul out of his dream like state. "We're here."  
"Thank you." Paul nodded and exited the car, swiftly moving into the building before anyone could see. Upon entering, he didn't bother saying hello to anyone he passed. He just went straight to the room where he could lock the door and listen to music for hours upon hours.  
  
 _"It doesn't rhyme!"_  
 _"It doesn't have to rhyme!"_  
 _"It's a song, John! Not a bloody free verse!"_  
 _"It's called being creative! Just give it a go."_  
 _"Fine! Whatever._ "  
  
Paul threw in the first tape he saw and pressed play.  
"Jo-Jo was a man who thought he was a loner." A younger version of himself sang through the speakers.  
  
 _"And I hope we passed the audition." The crowd laughed as the group packed their instruments. The police finally decided just to leave so they were left be. "I'm actually kinda glad we filmed this." John smiled, trying to get the hair out of his face._  
 _"Oh really? Why?"_  
 _"I dunno. It's just a piece of us. A real piece of us."_  
 _"Well I'm glad one of us enjoyed it." Paul huffed and walked down the stairs._  
  
"Paul? Are you alright?" Someone knocked on the door.  
"Piss off!" He shouted back. After a few seconds of hesitation, the person left.  
  
 _"How did you like it, John?"_  
 _"It's good! Is it about me?"_  
 _"What? No, I wrote it for Julian." John raised his eyebrows._  
 _"Kinda sounded like it was about me."_  
 _"Well it wasn't... Did you like it though?"_  
 _"I did, really."_  
 _"Good! I still gotta fix a few things though."_  
 _"Like what?"_  
 _"Well I used shoulder twice. I'm changing the last one."_  
 _"No, don't! It's the best part. I get it."_  
 _"You do?"_  
 _"Yeah! The movement you need is on your shoulders. Keep it. Who cares if you use it twice?"_  
 _"Alright. Thanks, Johnny."_  
 _"Anytime, Paulie."_  
  
Paul was failing at this battle of tears. They kept squirming out of his hazel eyes no matter how hard he tried to fight it.  
  
 _John fussed around under the blankets. It was driving Paul mad, but he did his best to keep his cool._  
 _"Paul?" He called. Paul heard, but didn't respond as he hoped John would just move on. "Paul!"_  
 _"What, John?"_  
 _"I can't sleep." A tired sigh left him and he rolled to face his friend._  
 _"Why not?"_  
 _"It's too hot in here. Will you open a window?"_  
 _"No."_  
 _"Please?"_  
 _"I said no."_  
 _"Whhhyyy?" John cried._  
 _"'Cause you're a grown man and perfectly capable of doing it yourself!"_  
 _"Paul?" Paul groaned._  
 _"What, John?"_  
 _"It's hot."_  
 _"Go to sleep."_  
  
Paul wished he had opened that damn window. He could have just been nice and opened it. He wasn't sure how it happened, but the guilt from it was wracking in his chest.  
  
 _Paul had walked in on John in the recording booth, only hearing the tail-end of a song that the older man was finishing. Things had been a bit rough between them, but he could put on a face for the time being._  
 _"Oh my bad. Sorry John... Is that a new song?"_  
 _"Uh, yeah." John sat the guitar down._  
 _"Can I hear it?"_  
 _"No." Paul was thrown aback by this. John shared all his songs with him. Usually asking for Paul's advice. Even when they were in a riff, they still worked together._  
 _"Oh... Uh, why?"_  
 _"'Cause it's no good."_  
 _"Is it going on the album?"_  
 _"I dunno." John was unfocused, trying not to look at Paul for too long._  
 _"Well I'm going to hear it one way or another. Just go ahead and play." Paul pulled up a stool and folded his hands on his lap._  
 _"I can't."_  
 _"John, stop being silly. Just play the bloody song."_  
 _"I can't!"_  
 _"But-"_  
 _"You'll get the wrong idea." John refused to look at Paul at all at this point and had crossed his arms defensively._  
 _"Wrong idea about what?"_  
 _"About me... And how I'm feeling."_  
 _"John, I've known you since I was fifteen. There's nothing inside your little head that would surprise me."_  
 _"Oh?" John picked up the guitar and began to strum._  
 _"Yes, I'm lonely._  
 _Wanna die._  
 _Yes, I'm lonely._  
 _Wanna die._  
 _If I ain't dead already,_  
 _Girl, you know the reason why."_  
 _Before Paul even had a chance to react, or for the song to sink in, John laid the guitar by the stool and headed for the door._  
 _"Wait," He started quietly but it caught up to him quickly. "Wait! John! Stop!" He stood up and chased after his friend._  
 _"I didn't want you to hear it! I didn't want to write it!"_  
 _"John!" Paul grabbed John's shoulder and turned him around, stopping him from leaving the room. "Why did you write it?"_  
 _"I wrote what I felt! That's what you're supposed to do when you're writing a song! You told me that!"_  
 _"But why?" John tried to shrug him off, but Paul held onto his shoulders tighter. "John, tell me."_  
 _"I don't know! I don't know why I felt it! I don't know why I wrote it! Just let me go, Paul!"_  
 _"No! Are you going to do something stupid?"_  
 _"No, of course not!" He tried to pull away again._  
 _"Then why did you write it!"_  
 _"I DON'T KNOW!"_  
 _"Are you really that lonely?"_  
 _"Piss off." He finally got out of Paul's grip and was able to storm out the door._  
  
Why didn't he ever go talk to John about it again? Why had he just let it drop? He could've helped. He wanted to help. After that, their entire friendship went downhill. Things were never the same.  
  
 _"Tea time!" Paul called in, carrying in a tray of tea._  
 _"Bed time." John moaned into the pillow._  
 _"No, darling. It's tea time. Three in the afternoon is not bed time."_  
 _"It is when you went to bed at seven." Paul sighed and set the tea on the end table._  
 _"John, you've got to get up."_  
 _"Wffsmvoo."_  
 _"I cant understand a word you're saying."_  
 _"You're not supposed to. Go away." John pulled the pillow over his head_  
 _"Wakey Wakey!" Paul had rolled his eyes and shook his friend back and forth._  
 _"GAH! FINE!" He screamed, sitting up. "Damn it! You're so annoying!"_  
 _"I love you, Johnny." Paul smiled at him. His muffed up bed head getting into his eyes. John moved it away from gaze so he could glare at him._  
 _"I love you too, Paulie." He grumbled as he took the tea to sip at it._  
  
"I love you, Johnny." Paul muttered in between tears. He shut off the music and was about to switch the tapes until he noticed how late it had gotten. Nearly eleven at night. He spent the entire day just listening to music.  
"Didn't you wish everyday could've be like this, Paul?" Someone asked beside him. Paul had laid his head on the desk and it was now twisted towards the visitor. He hadn't heard the door open, and he had locked it. But that wasn't the weirdest part about it. There sat John Lennon. With his feet propped up on the desk and his hands holding the back of his head as he leaned back into a relaxed pose. "Just listening to music. A lot better then when we were touring all the time. Remember that? We almost never got a day to ourselves. Now _that_ was Hell."  
"J-John? But you're dead."  
"Yeah? And?"  
"You're gone! You're gone forever! How are you here?!" He sputtered, heart racing as he looked at John with wide eyes.  
"No one is ever really gone Paul. I'll always be here. As long as you keep me," He leaned over and pointed towards Paul's chest. "Right here."  
"... You're so queer, John."  
"Yeah, well... You should've opened that damn window." Paul laughed weakly, wiping off the still coming tears. He stared at him for a moment before letting out another soft sob.  
"But why John? Why did you have to go now?"  
"Isn't it funny? How we kept asking each other why? All our lives, it was always just _'why?'_. There are just some things that we'll never understand though. For us especially." He stared at him in disbelief before shaking his head and burying his face.  
"Please don't go. Don't leave me. We just started talking again."  
"Hey," He pulled his feet off the desk and stood, letting himself pull Paul into a hug. "I'll always be here." Paul gripped onto John for dear life. Bawling into the shoulder of his jacket. "I love you, Paul."  
"I love you too, John."  
Paul woke up from his dream with a start as there was a knock on his door. He blinked a few times, looking around for John. He was gone, alone again.  
"Paul? You've been in there for hours. Is everything alright?"  
"I, uh..." John being there was just a dream. A stupid dream that only brought Paul even more tears.  
 _"I'm always here, Paulie."_ A voice whispered in his head.  
"I'm fine. I was just leaving." He rubbed at his eyes until the tears stopped and he shut off the music for good. Walking out, he knew John was right. He was always there. He could always feel him. He would be there forever. He would be here today.


End file.
